


Cut and Dry, Baby

by Hana_beans



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Elizabeth the 3rd is horny, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hackers, Minor Violence, Seven can't stay away from MC, Seven has too many skeletons in his closet, Seven is an inevitable troublemaker, Slow Burn Romance, Technicians, Tomboy MC, cute fluff too I swear, dorks fall in love, explicit sex will be seen later, jumin and seven share a past, mc pov, nameless mc, plot heavy, seven needs love, tags will be added later to avoid spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-27 13:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16219646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hana_beans/pseuds/Hana_beans
Summary: A motor head nearly creams herself when she sees Seven's luxury vintage car parked outside a lazy diner and decides to hunt him down. This begins her whirlwind romance with a man on the run and a story to tell.And while Seven is not sure he can resist falling head over heels in love any longer with his crazy tomboy; things only get further complicated when the two of them, along with everyone they love in RFA, are inexplicably thrown into a very perilous corporate espionage and its up to them to stop it.AU. Saeyoung x MC. Explicit sexual/mature content, humour, friendship between RFA, thriller and a shit ton of fluff.Chapter 2: In which Seven gives some solid advice, Elizabeth the 3rd molests Yoosung and Zen loses his shit amongst other things.





	1. Chapter 1: Fateful Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> I do not by any degree claim to be a car expert and have only limited knowledge passed down by my brother--so if any of you guys notice that my gibberish down below is incorrect, please let me know :)  
> It's fun to write Seven and a thriller romance together. Hope you guys have fun reading it too!  
> (Also I've toned down many tags that I plan to put after updates to avoid spoilers!)

 

* * *

 

The sleek exterior glistened under the hot sun, almost blindingly, and I nearly creamed my pants.

Standing before me in the parking lot of this almost obsolete dinner was a proud beauty a mere mortal like me could only see on a TLC coverage of some turbo-charged grand prix.

A customised vermillion 1966 Lamborghini Miura, one of the very first supercars from the brand itself to be ever made. It fucking revolutionised it's time.

And its right before me in Mysticfalls, defying Murphy’s law.

I think I was quivering like I was beckoned by Jesus himself because my hands shook when I reached to palm this gorgeous hunk of vintage metal. Running my fingers over its tapering curves and edges, I felt the bent welded steel, drilled to lighten its weight and make it effectively faster than the competitors of its time. I could only imagine how the horsepower would reverberate into my whole being when I sat behind the wheel, with my hand on its exclusive stick shift.

Exotics this old needed you to bust a kidney for maintaining, especially with high powered engines that were reputed to burn spontaneously in summer alone, and there was not a scratch in sight on this baby. I'm now certain the car owner is a good man. Or woman.

The homeless man across the street looked at me funny when I face-planted myself onto the window to look better inside --the windows were tinted so dark, it could have passed the legal limit so I couldn't help it. The leatherwork on the carseat looked genuine and while I have my fair quips about using poor baby sheep skin for just the grandiosity of it, I could let this slide just on the account of it's amazing handicraft. In the backseat, I noticed a cardboard box of HB chips and a stack of folders sprawled. There was also a bikini-clad Hawaiian bobblehead on the dashboard, except it had the face of a man. I noticed a massive duffel bag kept in the leg space which told me the owner must be going somewhere and this was just a pitstop. Also the mileage on the car was insane for it's model, like it drove cross-country.

"A beauty, isn't she?" I asked when Mr Homeless joined me to stare into the car.

He agreed, mirroring my awe and added, "Will make quite the buck if someone hot wires this baby and sells it at Al's secondhand."

I sniffed, affronted now. "I could but I wont."

_Al's secondhand_?  That's where I draw the line.

Walking into the diner, I wasn't surprised by the slow traffic of this place. Stagnant as ever, nothing almost ever changed--same old curry rank wall, same old yellow stained plastic chairs.

I spot a familiar face over the counter and make a beeline for her. "Min! Which lucky bastard owns that adonis in your lot?"

Min, bless her elderly heart, looks blank like the inside of my wallet while polishing the plates clean.

"The nice car outside." I try again and she rolls her eyes after realisation dawns. She juts her head to the farthest corner of the dinner and I see a figure with their back to me but clarity was not granted to me from this angle.

"The new guy there. He got here an hour back but was on his computer the whole time. Finally orders a damn milkshake two minutes back. What does he think this place is? Starbucks?"

She tut-tuts and I know how she feels about people spending time here past their welcome since she only lets a select few she's close to (such as yours truly) do so. I don't understand why though--this place had barely any customers and its a miracle it even runs. No wonder Jaehee went to Harvard--somebody had to bring bread to the table when this place closes. The distant future of it makes me sad. I love it here even if I'm critical of the guacamole they serve.

"And listen here, missy." She turns sharply to me. "I know you have a penchant to adopt everyone in near sight but that boy is the talk of the town at the moment. Even toothless Al knows he's back and he's got dementia."

She's now glaring into his unsuspecting back like she had a personal vendetta. "The kid used to live here when you were still a fresh little nugget and disappeared under the radar to god knows where. No one saw that coming. Returning after all those years is suspicious in my books and you better keep your head on your shoulders about that one."

Even a tea cup that looks slightly ajar compared to the rest of the stack is suspicious in Min's books so I think nothing of it. Rationally, there's nothing wrong with leaving this hick town for greener pastures--ever since I moved here a few years back; I've sure as hell wanted to pack and leave so many times, only to stay back in the cocoon of all too familiar warmth of this place. This place had no opportunities except for the company I worked at and people were starting to migrate. If anything, its surprising that a guy who owned a car like that came here instead.

"My head is always on my shoulders. It'd give you nightmares if it wasn't." I joked and she tries not to smile since she likes to keep her grumpy facade.

With that, I sashayed my way to mystery man in a dark hoodie who pays me no heed but ambidextrously sucks the straw of his peanut butter chocolate shake on one hand and types away with astonishing speed onto his laptop with the other. So fast that I was tempted to peer down his broad shoulders to see the screen for myself and know if he wasn't just writing gibberish, had I not been raised right.

Not wanting to hover around like a creep, especially when I was still undetected, I place a hand on his shoulder lightly that felt oddly tense against my palm. The man in question startles himself and shuts close his MacBook to whip by my direction and I'm greeted with eyes the most gorgeous shade of amber I have ever seen.

He was what most people would collectively agree to be good looking--not the devastatingly drop dead gorgeous kind like Zen but then its not fair for anyone to hold a candle to that. This guy stood out on his own with hair the shade of apple red that in a split second, I wondered if it was  au natural  or if he just won the genetic lottery with such a unique hue. He certainly won with bright golden eyes like his that even his glasses couldn't dim.

He looks surprised, his mouth agape on noticing me and for a moment, its like he's lost his ability for speech. In those eyes, I think I might have noticed a myriad of emotions storm by--alarm, then something I can't place my finger on and finally curiosity.

Its a good thing I don't let my well worn smile falter--he looked so spooked at first that I try not to take it personally and start, "Hi stranger." I gesture as casually as possible at the seat across him. "Bad time for some company?"

He blinked as if he wasn't expecting that and shakes his head wordlessly. There's this subtle rigidity in his frame as though he was on guard but I don't let it get to me and remind myself that anyone who treated his car like a place of worship as he did was already a good person in my books.

Slipping in on the chair, I place folded hands on the table like we were going to have 'the talk', "I'm notoriously known to not beat around the bush in this town so let me get to the point real quick."

If he was on guard before, he now looks positively tightly wound, like he would spring to maul my  face. Any lesser person would be scrambling away the back door with his glare but If I had years of withering glares and fair share of scoldings sent my way from Jaehee, under my belt that made me practically immune to fear.

"Your car should be worshipped in an alter, mister."

His shoulders slacked in surprise.

"Its downright beautiful. I've never seen anything like that in the flesh. And it's so wonderfully maintained that I can't even." It's 1 in the afternoon and I notice he hasn't had anything solid to eat. I may have ulterior motives, such as wanting to look under the hood of his car, but I was earnest in wanting to feed this boy something. "You have to let me treat you to lunch."

Not waiting a beat, I hollered at Min. "Can we have two plates of your finest quesadilla? Put it on my tab, please!"

His eyes looked grew into tiny saucers when Min replied in affirmation and he exclaimed, "What? No! You don't have to!"

After he finally spoke (thank god he wasn't mute--I didn't know ASL. Was I a horrible person for being relieved?), I found his voice pleasant to the ears--there was a caramelised baritone of his voice that combated his otherwise boyishly handsome appeal.

"T-that's nice of you to offer but I don't want to impose--"

"Rubbish, its no skin off my back." I leaned in with mischief in my twinkling eyes, "you're the talk of the town right now, I hear. So I want to treat the new guy before someone else beats me to it and looks like the local hero."

He blinks again and laughs, the vibrato which sounded even nicer thrummed my skin.

"Also, I hate having lunch alone so I hope you don't mind giving me some company?"I tilt my head to the side and had the look that used to get me free candy when I was younger.

"The finest quesadilla? This must be my lucky day then." He finally grins.

I lean in again to whisper conspiringly. "Don't touch the guac though."

He chortles. "Noted...uh?"

I tell him my name and asks his.

"You can call me 707."

Its not his real name, I know. Seeing the look on my face, he grins again. "I can also go by Luciel Choi, though that makes me feel like a choirboy and thus 707 suits my persona better, don't you think?"

"Whatever you say, Luciel," My smile was saccharine sweet like I hadn't heard him.

He shakes his head in exaggerated displeasure and asks with a self deprecating smile, "Am I really the talk of the town then? I couldn't shake off this feeling of being watched all day. There was this tiny old man on the other street corner that followed me all the way here. At first I thought I was being overly paranoid but he only left after 10 minutes of me not getting out."

"Oh that's just toothless Al." I said breezily. "Probably wanted to see if he could tow your car back to his garage and sell it."

Seven was surreptitiously looking out the window within nanoseconds, alarmed now.

"You might be a bit of a celebrity at the moment. Especially with that car."

"Ah," he took a long slurp of his milkshake with a playful grin I was starting to recognise as his signature move (when he wasn't on high alert) and belts poetry in a brassy tone, "Curses, so long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, so long liveth her beauty. Now I have to sleep with an eye open before she's whisked away in the dark."

"Damn right. I could sixty-nine your sweet ride, Seven." I laugh but he doesn't and instead, spurts almost the entirety of his milkshake. His chin was covered in his beverage while he quickly dabs a tissue to clean himself and I absent mindedly note that he's still good looking despite it. I also note that he's smiling now.

"I worked really hard for her," he shrugged in modesty and pulled at his straw.

"If you ever need a  _ certifiable _  and  _ trustworthy _  person to look into her," I put a lot of emphasis on those two words, trying to sell myself, "I'm a mechanic who works in the development team at C&R automobile utility here ready to assist you any time. We have a garage of our own and my boss doesn't mind if we dabble into other projects in our free time. I know enough to be able to deal with your kind of engine so have her over if you can't make it to a showroom."

I'm surprised to see that he looks at me in open mouthed fascination. "You're an automobile tech? That's so ho--" He stops himself from whatever it is he was about to say and flushed the colour of his hair but collects himself immediately.

"You _feed me_ and  offer to _tweak my ride?_ " He gasped so loud that it was borderline comical and batted his thick rim of crimson lashes at me, "Tell me, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

I continued on my sales pitch innuendo coyly, "did Imention that I'm damn good at my job? You'll be hard pressed to find anyone like me in this town."

He rapped his sneakers on the linoleum floor like he couldn't take it anymore and wolf whistled loudly, startling me, before he props his chin on his hands, elbows over the table, and sighs at me dreamily.

" _MeeOW_!ERROR!ERROR! _ ARrrroooga _ !"

It seems that he liked to default into outlandish flirting for a funny punchline than anything else and it works like a charm because I'm laughing hysterically now, the sound rumbling in my belly with no resistance.

I've already noticed by now that so far he hasn't once made an attempt to inquire anything threading onto personal territory about me except for indulge in the information I supplemented. People only did that when they don't want to be asked about themselves so I don't bother asking what he did or where he lived.

The plates were served and Seven shrunk under the Min's critical eye. I knew she was going to hover around needlessly to eavesdrop and I pat his arm sympathetically.

"She'll go away soon." I assured in a hush but it was too late. She heard me and huffed, telling me I was a 'rude child' before she bustled away.

His eyebrows furrowed at his plate and his lower lip jutted in to a pout. "Is it me or did you get a larger portion size?"

"We regulars have our mighty privileges," I smirked. "Come here every lunch break like I do and you might be deemed worthy."

"Every lunch break?" Seven smirks back. "Boy, you must be a hardcore fan."

"Or the food is actually good." I countered easily, without a defensive bone in my body.

"Ho ho. I guess its up to me to 'unbiased-ly' put its taste to the test then."

I see him reach out for ketchup and mayo and pour them onto his plate, making a horrible concoction of the two and dip his food into it without gagging. He must have bizarre food habits. It should a crime to eat anything like that but is it weird that I thought that was adorable instead?

After taking a bite, he moans in relish, eyes squeezing shut. "You're right! This is some good quality stuff. Almost as good as the joint I grew up eating from."

"Which one is that?"

He pointed his accusatory fork at me, his voice grave, "I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you, my friend. You'll have to earn my trust before I expose you to the best Mexican food in the world perhaps; we'll get there. One day."

I choked on my food and guffawed. This charming dork is proving to be worth wiling my afternoon away with.

"You'd murder me over Mexican food now, agent 707? Am I so easily disposable?"

My joke might have made his smile wane thinly but the mirth comes back in a flash. "Maybe not. Defender of Justice is more my schtick these days."

We peddled into random topics while eating--I ask away like a nosy bitch about his car (about the seller, its features, everything I can and he's not stingy with sharing details) and get to know it's incredible backstory and he in turn dabbles into a few wise crack jokes about how the natives badgered him ever since he got here (he finds it funny that elementary school kids shun him with pebbles sometimes, though I'm pretty sure its dangerous).

I marvelled how easily we built a rapport as time flew by swiftly, and at the expense of sounding cliche; it was like we knew each other for a very long time.

My phone flashes the word 'SLAVE DRIVER' before it rang, its incessant music cutting our conversation short, and he looks at me quizzically.

I shrugged, sighing. "It's my boss."

I pick up and sure enough, it's my enigmatic boss; Jumin Han on the other line. His voice was curt as always, never one for small talk, "Hello. I apologise in advance if I have disturbed your break but I would like you to report back immediately and tell me your thoughts on a few design drafts. Good afternoon then."

And with that, the line went dead before I could input a word. The man was a torpedo--creating a whirlwind at his wake when he happened upon us and left just as easily, leaving a calm aftermath of a storm. I couldn't blame him right now--we were missing some crucial number in employees at the moment and the rest of us staff had to work overtime to keep afloat. I shuddered to think what Jaehee, who was our Head Manager, had to possibly deal with or if she managed to eat anything at all today but a glass of milk.

"Duty calls?" Seven asked and there was a tinge of disappointment to his words but I could have easily imagined that.

I groaned in response and got up to leave, lamenting internally at how my break shortened, especially when I was having so much fun after what felt like a decade.

"Alright soldier, get a move on then!" Theres so much cheer in his voice and he mock solutes, "Proceed as directed on to your next mission, trooper! Make the automobile industry shooketh with your no doubt ingenious contributions today!"

Laughing, I stood stock still in attention and saluted back. "Signing off then, 707 sir!"

Our smiles rivalled each other equally, extending ear to ear.

I smirked one last time before leaving. "Hope to bump into you again, Luciel Morningstar."

 

* * *

 

 

It was finally the foreboding day we expected that came. None of us were however prepared for the onslaught that we were about to face after a full work day of surveying models in the garage as we head to the office where it happens: Jaehee, the perfect corporate sidekick to Jumin, never flakey or indecisive, who overworked herself lately to the brink of insanity, had finally lost her shit.

"MR. JUMIN HAN." She bellowed, inching closer to the man. "In all due respect you CANNOT run this company WITHOUT a proper fucking team. I will NOT stand for this, sir!"

You know you've screwed up royally when Jahee resorts to clutching on to profanity to express herself. Even the usually impassive Jumin's eyes flickered in fear and he fingers for the pepper spray in his pockets.

"We need to hire a designer soon and start production or we'll go under!"

I made for the kitchen like the wind and see Zen rummaging the cupboards as well with the same intentions as I-- to look for her favourite brand of organic camomile tea in hopes to coax her into calming down. I would have asked Yoosung for an extra hand but the poor boy was sitting in the corner, rocking himself back and forth.

One month of overtime that involved nights spent sleeping in the office, with nothing coming out of it, finally broke us.

"Thank god someone said it. Trust Fund Kid needs a fucking reality check," Zen told me and clicked his tongue in disapproval. His expression darkened progressively, punctuating every word he said, "If things go on the way it has for another day, God help me, I'm going to chokehold that mother fucker to the floor mamba style and--"

"Zen, your gangster is showing."

Zen's face morphed into a pleasant smile in a nanosecond. "Sorry, babe! You know this doesn't mean I'm not enjoying all the extra time I get to spend you."

Zen was the part timer tech who worked for a living with us when not pursuing his real calling--broadway. He was the embodiment of an older brother figure (which is why he often gets overprotective of us and head-butts Jumin a lot more than usual lately) and the perfect foil to Yoosung, who was the youngest tech we all doted on. Our residential sunshine Yoosung used to be the what kept our spirits going but even he was down in the pits this time.

I shook my head and drew out a heaved sigh. "It's okay, Zen. It would have been nice that we all get to crash at the office like a big ol' slumber party every night had we been working on an actual project." My voice was biting, angry at something I couldn't understand yet.

"Tell me about it." Yoosung spoke up from his corner, sadness permeating through his amethyst eyes. "I don't even remember where I live anymore. Or the last time I showered."

Zen's reply was cuttingly dry. "Yoosung, nothing should ever stop you from a damn bath."

Meanwhile, I was evaluating how I felt about all that transpired as of late. Our boss may be a frustratingly obstinate man but he was also a pragmatic thinker. The widely rumoured (and deservingly so) prodigal son to the chairman of our parent company rose our sinking branch from the ashes like a phoenix in just two years.

To suddenly fire half our department was unthinkable coming from him.

No matter how much we all prodded and reasoned, he said he had to do it and there was simply no other way. Their skill wasn't up to the par anymore, he said. They lack the intuitiveness he wanted for an upcoming project that will be in the works, he said.

Jumin was a perfectionist. Maybe that's why he overanalysed every new recruitment we sought after. Maybe that's why everything feels slow?

I rubbed my face with my hands. Now our severely downsized team bent backwards to keep the place running. Upcoming plans on creating a new prototype was halted temporarily for this reason alone and is looming over our heads like an albatross.

I couldn't shake off the feeling that we're knee deep in quicksand and didn't know it somehow.

Zen always had a natural ability to read someone's mood like a sixth sense which is why he noticed mine had soured and he rubbed soothing circles on my back. "We're going to pull through this, you hear me? All of us. Together. This is just what people call a time of 'passing the wind'."

Yoosung's voice is deadpan from where he sits. "No, that's just flatulence."

Zen blushes indignantly, trying to formulate a comeback, while the two of us giggle at his mishap and he let's it go.

I squeezed his arm back, hoping it conveyed how grateful I was that he was always quick reach out when he understood someone's distress. That was Zen; a true gentleman who would brazenly flirt inconsequentially with even a rock but would stand in front of a firing squad for the people he cared about most.

Jaehee and Jumin's heated arguments resonate from the other room while we waited for the right moment to call ceasefire. As time passes, Zen stares at his own reflection from the window, preening himself desolately and I pointedly ignore that he apologises to his skin for neglecting it.

Left to my own devices, my mind wanders back to the redhead jokester and I pictured him being stalked by the trotting senile car thief and that made me suppress a giggle. The boy was both equal parts charming and mysterious and somehow the highlight of my day.

Looking over to Yoosung, I decided I should tell him about today's events to cheer him up.

"Yoosung, guess what I saw today? A Lambo Miura. In front of Min's diner of all places!"

That got his undivided attention because he loves exotics just as much as I do. "No way!"

"Yes way, my friend. It had all the stuff it's known for--the stick shift and the eyelash headlights! And it was customised with carbon fibre and a damn good paint job with black accents and all."

He gasps, hands flying to his mouth. " No ."

"And," I paused theatrically, "apparently it was uselessly lying in scrap junkyard for the last ten years before someone discovered it and fully restored it's V12 engine! Just in time when it's appreciation sky rocketed. I swear it's all coincidence!"

Now Zen and Yoosung both chorus, " _get out of here_!"

I smirked. We were such suckers for V12s, even if the cons outweighed the pros and it could be a health hazard. Some of us didn't mind an honourable death by an exploding engine; we saw it as blazing away in an inferno of it's glory.

It was then that Jumin and Jaehee join us in the kitchenette after their bickering, both looking equally haggard. Zen dutifully passes her a designated cup of tea and nothing, of course, for Jumin. He just sits on a misplaced scroll chair and pinches the bridge of his nose. I feel bad for his drained state so I try to sneakily make him some tea without Zen noticing and accusing me of familial betrayal.

"Guys," Yoosung quips with excitement, "there was a fully restored Lamborghini Miura in town! Right in front of your mom's diner Jaehee! I mean, what are the chances you ever see a vintage luxury in here?"

It is a big deal that even Jaehee pays attention. "In front of the diner? Who on earth could possibly own one in this miserable place?" She asked after blowing into her cup.

Having no incentive in brushing it under the carpet, I was honest. "It belongs to the new guy in town. Or maybe I should call him a returnee? He goes by 707. Uh, I mean Luciel Choi. Do you guys know him?"

Suddenly, there was an expanse of silence that engulfed our group. Zen and Jaehee shared an indecipherable glance and she looked like she was about to say something but chose to opt not to. Yoosung simply looked pensive.

Jumin, on the other hand, whirled around the whole axis of his chair and looked at me far more stunned than I've ever witnessed before.

"Did you just say Luciel Choi?"

 

* * *

* * *

 

Somewhere in crook of the of the town, amidst the vast expanse of stacks of tall cornfield, surrounded by the croaking of a frog and chirping of crickets,  sat a man in his car.

The screen of his phone flickered endlessly next to his lap, multitudes of colour flashing from it, providing dim illumination in his territory. But he payed it no heed. He simply laid his head to rest against his seat but his eyes were open, staring ahead in to dead void, listening to the crickets surrounding him. A rare moment of tranquility for him, however unfortunately on borrowed time .

It was then that he heard another vehicle drive to a halt in his vicinity.

His body was tight with steadfast alertness as he waited patiently, listening to the thrum of the other engine being switched off and silence engulfed their shared environment again. The new intruders must have been close, but not enough to make their presence detectable.

His fingers were ghostly pale as his grip hardened on to the steering wheel, his breath shallow but the sound of his heartbeat almost eclipsed his hearing. He had noted that their motor was far too loud to be a dead giveaway in itself but he couldn't allow himself to rest on his laurels with that nonetheless.

Carefully, with years of well practiced stealth, he inched closer to the window for a better look, squinting into the pitch black darkness for a clue. His pupils constricted to sharpen his sight, eyes shifted raptly with keen - left and right, over and below every inch that his field of vision would allow.

When it proved to be futile in midnight dark like he know it would, he reached out for his revolver from the dashboard and tucked it under his belt, the ice cool of metal pressing on to his skin, its familiar weight giving him comfort. He then stepped out.

His foot work out into the open farm was light so be wouldn't crunch a twig somewhere carelessly, blowing his cover away, and his dominant hand rest close to his weapon.

Following the trail of soft rustles the newcomers left at their, his hand finally drew his gun when he reached a safe distance to spy them behind a row of corn hay. Hands gingerly curled around the plant that curtained them apart until he saw--

A horny middle aged couple rutting together in the back of their pick-up truck.

Shocked, he quickly drew his hand back like it stung him, heat creeping over his face as he willed himself to push the image of the older man's sagging bottom away from his mind. He retreated back quietly to his car without disturbing their tryst in the middle of nowhere. Once again he was a lone figure in his darkness and he sighed, exhaustion of his sleep deprived state overwhelming him.

_Until how long will he have to keep looking over his shoulder?_  


	2. Tip of the Iceberg

"Yes," I say uncertainly with all eyes on me, "thats what he told me his name was."

Suddenly everyone but Jumin was abuzz, all of them talking amongst each other but it was hard to make anything coherent from their muck and mayhem as I watched them back and forth like a tennis match.

I threw my hands in the air, exasperated. "Guys! Whats the big deal?"

Jaehee adjusted her glasses like it was a nervous twitch. "Are you sure its Luciel? Luciel Choi?"

I nodded as patiently as I could. "Yes. Your mom saw him there too so I know I didn't just make up an imaginary friend."

Jaehee looks at everyone else one last time and started. "Its just...he's a bit of an urban legend around here."

"I've started to figure it out as much. But why?"

"Yes, its because of a certain...reputation he procured before you moved in town."

"If you say so, Jaehee."

"And none of it is substantiated. Simply just grapevine gossip, if you will. But there was an investigation, I would dare say, a routinely casual one at that--"

Zen interjected, "Theres nothing routine casual about the feds getting involved."

_What? Feds? Like actual federal agents?_

You have to be shitting me.

"Y-yes. That may be the case. But it was a false alarm. Those things happen often when neighbours get too drunk and take advil and call the cops. That nuclear family was as clean as any other, if you ask me."

We pointedly not question the 'drunk and advil' elephant in the room.

"You may be right on that but the feds never exactly revealed why they held an investigation in the first place." Zen shrugs his shoulders half heartedly. "Can't blame the townsfolk for being fascinated."

Yoosung looked like he couldn't hold it in anymore and he screamed, "He and his family ran a secret cannabilism cult!" He rest a hand over his chest. "There, I said it."

"Yoosung kim," came Jaehee's warning tone, like she was going to give him a time-out.

"They drank sacrificed virgin blood and played with Oiuja boards for fun."

I'm stupefied to say the least and I'm pretty sure my eyes bulged out of my socket, the size of Jumin's golf balls while Jaehee sighs in resignation. A what cult? That Seven was a part of--the same guy who mixed ketchup and mayo together? This has to be some colossal joke--

"Buullshiiit. Whave I told you about listening to crazy Al again? I swear, every time you do, that man has you losing a chunk of your mind." Zen chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes turned serious when he said, "I know what happened."

I was glad that he's about to finally clear the air while my mind was reeling from what's been said to me.

"It was all because of Luciel--he always excelled with the computers, you see? I'm talking breaking-in-the-government kinda good." Zen explains, "So one fine day; he apparently hacked into Walmart's database and shipped his school a whopping 60,000 of FREE PhD Peppers. "

"Zen, his coding skills were never corroborated to that degree and nobody knows to this day who was behind that," Jaehee corrected him quickly as if Seven lurked around the bushes for his 'Aha!' moment and sues us expensively for character assassination. "All they found the next morning was a pyramid of soda in the gym but no clues. It could've been anyone!"

"Exactly, that's the genious of the whole thing. The school spent so long pulling apart the cans before it crashed and drowned the place! And when he did get in trouble with authories ; his family, who rolled with some powerful people; pulled in some strings--"

Jaehee looked like she'd shred her own hair out. "Okay, that's too much of a stretch! His parents worked as ordinary public servants, lived in a picket fenced house and had _chrysanthemums_ growing in their lawn for Chrissake!--"

"What's chrysanthemums got to do with anything!" Yoosung countered heatedly and leans into me, cupping a hand over his mouth, his voice full of conspiracy, "Someone told me that the feds decided to pay a visit because there had been sightings," he paused for a dramatic drumroll, "of alien invasion in their home."

Now that's just ridiculous.

My hands flew to my temple to nurse an incoming headache.

"So let me get this straight; all of this is just speculations with questionable sources and none of you knew him personally then?"

Everyone has the decency to look away sheepishly and I shake my head at their valiantly knowledgeable demonstrations today. Sure I don't claim to know Seven best after having known him for less than 24 hours but I'm convinced never again to source from the rumour mill now. Its like these lies practically wrote themselves.

It appears so far his only crime was that his family faced a harmless questioning, after which they went their merry way but everyone ran their twisted imaginations wild. Mysticfalls has too much time on its hands for its own good.

I've also noticed Jumin hasn't piped a word throughout this whole ordeal and remained his usual stoic self, distantly gazing out a nearby window, watching the bustle of the town. I'm beginning to suspect he knew more than he let on, solely by judging his unmistakable surprise from earlier, but even if that were the case; I wasn't going to barrel him into submission if he wasn't comfortable enough to do so.

" _Weeeell_."

Zen started and I decide to indulge him one last time, giving him my waning attention. "We all know that isn't why people talk about him."

His expression was both sombre and hesitant, like he didn't know if he should say anything. "It was just a barely two months later, when he turned fifteen--that his family died in a house fire. Only he survived that day."

 

* * *

 

 

I'm wearing my coveralls--the one with a gallon of oil grease splattered on it the shape of a world map, when I head to the diner and instantly regret not changing.

I see Luciel, the legend himself, on the same table as yesterday (the only one by the fire escape), and I smoothed my dishelved bun as if it could salvage my appearance somehow, but its too late and he noticed me and waved excitedly.

"Hi stranger." I said as I closed the distance.

He holds a hand over his heart with mock hurt. "Stranger? You wound me terribly. Here I thought we were friends already but you're just after my car, aren't you? Waiting to sneak my keys away when I least expect it and ride off into the sunset."

I pretended to be caught in the act. "And I would have gotten away with it too; if it weren't for you, you meddling kid!"

He laughed as any man with a good taste in cartoons should or we simply would never be able to be friends.

I sat opposite him and frowned. "Seven, its come to my notice that this is the second day I see you not eat any real food."

His cheerful disposition does not falter. "Don't need any. Honey Buddha Chips and PhD Pepper sustains me plenty. Especially when you're on the road, you can drive with one hand and eat--"

"Okay, that's it." I huffed and raised a hand to get Min's attention , "excuse me but I'd like two plates of--"

Seven hurled himself across the table desperately and grabbed my hand, only to drop it like hot potato. "I-I surrender! You don't have to treat me again."

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. "Then be a good boy and order yourself something substantial before you die of sodium poisoning."

Seven looked at me in open mouth fascination. "Holly shit, you just gave me a _mommy kink_ now."

I burst out laughing and slap his arm but the kook just crooned, "Nooooo, don't spank me yet! Save it for our third date!"

"You are so impossible," I said in between giggles and smile wickedly before I can help myself, "so we're on our second date then?"

He sputtered like schoolboy caught watching something dirty and his cheeks tinged with a blush. I tried really hard to file the word 'date' away into the deep recesses of my mind but I couldn't stop a proud smile at his plight.

"You're bad for the heart, missy." He narrowed his eyes, wagging a finger above my face distrustfully.

We ordered two different pastas in the end; mine was some kind of red sauce and his good ol' Mac and cheese, and fall into easy conversation but I can't say my heart was in it completely. My mind kept lingering back to the events that transpired in the C&R office last night when the gang and I discussed Seven.

I felt like I knew something I had no place knowing and that made me feel terribly guilty. Seven didn't tell me something so personal that happened to him on his own accord and I got to know behind his back from elsewhere .

I couldn't even begin to fathom what it would be like to lose all your family members in an unfortunate fire-- to have the people you care most about perish within a matter of moments and see the rest of the world continue on. How terribly unfair it must feel to be subjected to such a tragedy when you were just a boy? And I couldn't imagine how it must have been for someone so young to cope with being the only survivor.

I was always surrounded by a tightly knit community after I moved here a few years ago--there was my real family and the family I made for myself with Jaehee, Zen, Yoosung and even Jumin. If anything ever happened to them--I'd be so devastated that I don't know if it's in me to ever recover from the loss in this lifetime.

But this man before me did-- or at least carried on with his life somehow and I'm sure that was no easy feat--

He called me by my name, effectively breaking me out of my reverie.

"Thought I lost you for a second there." He sighed desolately and trilled ostentatiously, "am I _thaaaat_ boring that I can't hold your attention? You might not know this but I, Defender of Justice, 707 am a lot if things but petty isn't one of them. So you can be honest and tell it to my face-- I can take it like a man!"

For someone who can take it like a man; he covers his face with his hand and peeks through the web of his fingers.

I couldn't help but feel guilty again. Here I was, pretentiously trying to assume everything on my own. So the lie comes to me naturally, "Sorry, of course that isn't the case. Work's just been a bitch lately."

He looks at me, concerned now. "Oh man, that sucks. Wanna talk about it?"

_Hoo boy. Where do I start with that one?_

I know I want to tell him but I don't know if I should be prattling my comparatively far insignificant issues on him. What if he thinks I'm too much of a drag to be his friend?

He noticed my hesitation and gives me an easy smile. "No offence taken, of course, if you don't want to but I can be a good listener if you're ever up for it."

It doesn't take me long to blurt my reply, words just tumbling like vomit before I could neatly organise them before speaking. "Something's up in the company and none of us techs know what it is, expect maybe our boss does. We're all overworking to the bone, just improving on our existing models but we can't continue like this for long. We're too short-handed until he does the right thing and hires--"

I stopped myself, feeling my cheeks flush. It's almost like I was bashing Jumin and that didn't sit well in my belly. He is my boss, yes, but also one of my most reliable friends and someone I shared more than just a work acquaintance connection with.

Also I can't shake off the feeling like all I could see was the tip of the glacier and not the whole picture.

"That's not what I want to say--I-I," I struggled to find the right words, feeling oddly sentimental. Why was this hard...?

Seven reached out his hand and held mine over the table and I caught my breath at the sudden contact. His hand was larger than mine so it easily covers it whole but there's comfortable heat conducting from his slightly callused skin to mine. For some reason I felt like his presence was uplifting me, his warmth giving me the strength to face the issues I know I skirted around.

"I respect my boss--all the techs remaining back at C&R do. He found me when I was an inexperienced fledgling just working at my dad's garage for peanuts, said I had potential and took me under his wing. Together, all of us, worked to bring the C&R motors division back to life with our blood, sweat and tears. There's nothing more I ever wanted to do my whole life other than get my paws all over cars--whether is just sandpapering for a four hour paint job or ensemble an engine from scratch."

"You're such a motor-head." He teased me but it sounded more affectionate than anything.

I laughed. "Yessir, that I am. And he let me have that. Zen, my friend, wants to be a broadway actor you know? My other friend, Jaehee, is a huge fan of his--far devoted than I could ever be--because he's absolutely mesmerising on stage. But no matter how talented he is; it'll take years to make a name for yourself and have a stable income.

"So he needs a job to keep himself under a roof until then but he also needs a flexible schedule so he can sometimes go and audition. He gets to do that here and I'm so happy for him that he gets to pursue his dream-- That could never happen else where with a physically demanding job like ours."

Seven was listening to me intently, absorbing everything I said like a sponge and I felt him rub little circles into my hand with his thumb--was he even aware he was doing that? For some reason I was sure he wasn't.

"This is more than just a nine to five job to us; that I'm scared something doesn't feel right. I also love my team to death and I'd never want anything to happen to them..."

"They're very lucky to have you too," he said, quietly and I found myself looking at his eyes to see naked earnestness.

I felt kinda overwhelmed with emotion that my eyes prickled with unleashed tears and I willed myself not to cry-- last thing I want to do is to thank him by hurling a weeping grease ball on him and recreate a break up like scenario in middle of the diner for everyone to talk about. If they weren't already about some alleged extra terrestrial invasion.

But I was relieved at having to talk to someone who would listen to me objectively. Zen might try to pounce and tackle answers out of Jumin if I told him all I was suspecting, perennially stressed Jaehee would would go to the madhouse at this rate if she hadn't already realised for herself (I'm sure she did--she was always the smart one) and Yoosung would be unnecessarily losing sleep over this and turn up to work with panda eyes. Besides, without concrete evidence; this is all just a gut feeling.

Also, I was touched that Seven said what he did and sounded like he truly meant it.

"You're amazing...You're so kind and hardworking. On the other hand--" His voice was so soft and hoarse, that I had to strain to hear better, "I--I wish I could say I loved mine..."

"Are you two going to make _moon eyes_ at each other all day or does someone want dessert?"

We both withdrew our hands reflexively at the speed of light and sat upright. My face burned like the fire of a thousand suns and he wasn't able to hide his tomato red blush either.

Min just stood there impatiently with her notepad. "Well?"

I tried not to stammer with my heart racing like a Cadillac on a highway. "N-nope, I'm good! You, Seven?"

He didn't glance up from the menu card he was inspecting resolutely and gives her a blind thumbs up.

"Okaaaay then." With that, the rotund woman ambled away and disappeared behind the counter.

An awkward moment of silence encompasses us and I wonder if it's a cue to head back since we're both done eating but Seven is the first to speak up.

"Talk to your boss."

He elaborates when I looked at him, "I'm guessing so far you guys must have tried to get answers and gotten nowhere so far. But since all of you are close, I think he would have told you if he thought he could."

Seven looked deeply in thought and continued, "Maybe the guy's going through something he can't share--so maybe you could try and find out if he's okay? Let him know he's not alone. You probably won't come to a conclusion just yet but you might find some closure?"

I listened to everything, reviewing every word he said and I can't agree any more--he was right. So far the rest of us were wrapped in our self pitying bubble, shifting much of the blame on his shoulders at the moment, that we hadn't thought to support him. He had just as much to lose here, if not far more.

"Thank you, Seven."

And I meant it.

He smiled at me with incredible warmth that's almost palpable. I noticed that his real smile was somewhat crooked and that his eyes crinkled at the corners, and that made my stomach do little cartwheels inside.

I'm embarrassed that we spoke too muche about me and I didn't want to miss the golden oportunity to finally talk about him since he so rarely supplied much about himself--especially about what he said before. Did he have a boring desk job he hated?

"So uh, can I ask you what is it that you do?"

He looks at me and for a brief moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "You can say I work with computers."

A desk job then. No wonder he hated it. At least Zen was right about him being good with computers. "Like an IT guy? Thats so cool."

"Something like that." He replied and smirked at me. "And I can bet all of my precious Honey Buddhas that you don't possibly mean that."

"No, no. Of course I do-- its great to have uh, job security and fixed hours--"

He threw his head back and laughs raucously, slapping the table in a clamorous fashion. "You really _don't_ think that."

I just give an indignant huff. Here I was, trying not to make the guy feel bad for his god awful occupation that probably will give him a carpal tunnel soon.

My phone rang and I grabbed for it to see its the alarm. Time to head back to work. After I bid him goodbye and prepare my departure, he calls out to me.

For a moment he seemed like he had an internal battle with himself, I saw his mouth open and close with unformed syllables but his cavalier nature returns.

"Its nothing. Have fun at work!"

 

* * *

 

 

The sounds of welding machines and assault of tools on metal surrounding us were not for the weak ears. Our decisively industrialised garage, that permanently stank of rank oil and carcinogenic paint, was fussing with work as always--so much so that many did not pay attention sometimes and would stumble over anything in their path. This was not the kind of place you'd have your kid around.

And most certainly not the place you have your very expensive persian cat over.

Yet, here she was; the infamously aristrocratic Elizabeth the 3rd--the apple of Jumin's eye-- left in Jaehee's care while she nervously held on to the cat for her dear life. Because only gruesome imaginary involving our employer comes to mind if the kitty gets accidentally sheik-kabbabed by a nearby flame torch in her care.

This was not a daily occurrence with our unreasonable boss and he ultimately reserved his strapping-his-cat-by-the hip tendencies when something stressed him out. And boy, did that spell trouble or what.

Yoosung and I were supposed to be currently reporting to Jaehee, who we couldn't help but pity. Zen on the other hand stood a mile away but distance did nothing to quell his allergy so he kept sneezing up a storm meanwhile.

"The brake paddle was a bit of a problem--we noticed some friction on the road before ," Yoosung said, with distracted alternating glances at the cat and the car, "but we're on it."

I'm crouched down below, replacing the caliper with thickly gloved hands and I wipe the sweat off my forehead with my forearm.

She heaves out a sigh, balancing the load in her hands with great difficulty as the cat tries to squirm away. "I take it all is fine then?"

"Yes, yes! Jae-hee, Elizabeth looks restles-- let me take care of her for you," he is quick to grab the prized feeline posession and she thanks him in relief. He smiles at her cheerfully. "Don't worry; I'll play with her and keep her busy. You take a break now!"

We both squint at him like we can't directly look at the pure ball of light that is Yoosung and she thanks him. But just when we think she can rest easy, Elizabeth has a mind of her own today.

The cat scrambles out of his grip and mounts on his back and he bends over, trying not to shake her off. It then proceeds to gyrate against his back while Jaehee and I realise in abject horror that Elizabeth is doing a freaky mating dance while Yoosung giggles innocently, oblivious to the kitty bits rubbing all over him. "What game are you playing Elizabeth? You really like me, huh?"

 _Oh she likes you more ways than one_.

A ghostly pale Jaehee just mutters under her breath, "Good lord. Elizabeth is dry humping my tech." She immediately jabbed me on the side to help him and I scrambled in haste to yank Elizabeths paws off the younger boy. Literally.

  
"Okay, that's the last fucking straw." Zen, who watched from a distance, strode towards Jumin on the other side of the garage, while he was on the phone answering queries.

"Hey, Trust Fund Jerk. Take care of your damn cat, will you?"

Jumin cut his call short and looked over at Zen and I could see how bleary he looked. "That was an important call, Zen. Please refrain from yelling while a customer is on the line. And Jaeehee gets greatly compensated for looking after Elizabeth the 3rd when I can not. So what is the problem here exactly?"

"What's the problem...?" Zen repeated in disbelief. "You might not give a damn because all you care about is petting your kitty like an evil overlord but we're dying out here while you do jack!"

Jaehee gasped, her long fingers covering her mouth daintily and I nearly dropped the horny cat in surprise.

"This isn't your fucking playground and not everything is about you--so many livelihoods rest on your shoulders now so grow the fuck up! Did that golden spoon you're born with crawl all the way up your asshole that you can't even see that you're destroying this place?"

"First of all, I suggest you learn your place. You are in no position whatsoever to behave with your superior, might I remind you, in that manner. Another lesser man would have you packing with that kind of talk immediately." Jumin said, enunciating every word with disciplined hardness now.

This only furthers to enrage Zen. He bristled, invading Jumin's personal space and the other man in turn did not so much as flinch in response, but stared down at Zen with his own brand of ire.

"You have some nerve if you think I'll cover in fear if you threaten me after everything you did, Jumin Han."

"I wasn't threatening you then but I shall take you upon your wonderful suggestion now."

Jaehee is already on it; peeling Zen away from the other man, trying to bridge some distance between the two. Yoosung shielded Jumin in turn, his concern clear as day in his eyes. "Stop it, you guys! And Zen, you're crossing a line here! Let's just call it a day, punch the clock and go home, okay?"

"Zen, please calm down." Jaehee's usually controlled voice is frantic now, "You're tired--as we all are after a long day--so you're not thinking straight. I suggest that you should get some fresh air outside and collect yourself--"

Training his ruby like eyes on Jumin, the muscles in his jaw clenched. "Thank you, but no. I'm not going to stand here and let Trust Fund ruin our lives."

"Zen. Please don't say anything you don't mean." My voice was desperate even to my ears because I'm already sure of what he's about to say if we don't diffuse the situation soon. Zen doesn't look at me either but tells me its okay.

"It amuses me you have the capacity to pretend to care about something other than your own goddamn reflection." Jumin scoffed and I groaned internally at his necessity for The Last Word. I turned my attention to the man and gave him the most withering glare I could muster and upon seeing it, he has the grace to swallow his next words.

"I fucking quit," Zen sneered maliciously, "Suck on that, asshole."

Jaehee protested in response and Yoosung ran to him, abandoning Jumin, to convince our theatrical actor to retract his statement because, I don't know; this was his job he just threw away!

And for a moment I'm torn between the two but as I watched Jumin, I've made my choice.

The older man stood stock still watching the scene unfurl before him with his notorious detached poise but his hands that wring gawkily told another story. So when he leaves abruptly, I naturally chased after him.

Its not long until I catch up to him in a nearby balcony that was reserved as the smoking area for Zen. His sturdy back faced me, lurching ever so slightly over the rails, as I approached him in caution and cleared my throat to make my presence known.

He straightens himself immediately on autopilot to a rigid, upright frame that was a product of his upbringing. For some reason I'm reminded that he was the one who would always unfailingly send out a bottle of wine, through Jaehee, on all our birthdays, same time on the dot, every year. But he'd easily be inclined to save his cat in a car crash and leave us all to perish in an explosion if the choice had to be made.

"Oh," he called out my name. "I apologise on behalf of us both to all of you to have to see something so unsightly. "

I gave him a half-smile and handed him his cat. He looked at her with unabashed adoration while he pet her. "Its okay; I'll find it in me to survive somehow."

That earns me a dry chuckle and I asked tentatively, "Are you okay, sir?"

"Ah yes, thankfully I had Yoosung between us to take the blow had that fiend assaulted me--"

"Thats not what I mean, sir."

His silence was everything.

His tall figure contrasted the sky behind him where the sun steadily tipped past the horizon, hues of the newly emerging clouds, darkening shades of golden like varied dyes, painted a serene portrait around us. But the mellowness of light starked his frame, casting shadows over him, making it hard for me to get a read on him.

"What do you mean then?" He asked me quietly, his hand stilling over Elizabeth.

"Jumin," I start by switching to his name like I do when we're not surrounded by other employees, and chose to look at the expanse of sky behind him, not wanting my direct gaze to make him feel trapped or fidgety. "I just want to know if you...and everything else, are okay."

His mouth is slightly ajar in surprise and he looks down on to the tiles beneath; us as if it held the Answers of The Universe. "Do I not look so?"  
  
My voice is kind, the one I reserve for Yoosung when he asks me why the sky is blue ('Some things are just, okay?'). "At the moment you don't, if I'm being honest. Or maybe you weren't for a while now but I was too self absorbed to notice. For that, I'm sorry."

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for." He turns to me as he sheilds me against my own words.

I remembered Seven from the diner; how he encouraged me to talk, not making his presence overbearing but a blanket of security. "If you ever want to talk, you know I'll always be there for you, right? So will the rest of the gang--right now they're just very concerned but I'm sure they'll be more than happy to hear you out. "

He slowly nods in affirmation and and looks down at me, his eyes smoldering in the sunlight. "Thank you. I have to say your intuition astounds me sometimes," he smiles and a heat in my cheeks flares up because I'm not used to compliments. And becuase I have the inherent desire to ruin a good moment, I shrug and make a very incoherent sound.

"Everything soon will soon be fine...myself included." He said firmly in a promise and I pictured him putting a wax seal on it, "I've come to make my decision today."

I still didn't know what that meant but Seven was right; this simple exchange...was giving me some peace. "I trust you. I hope you know that and hope it helps."

"Yes...it does help."

"Good." I smiled triumphantly, wanting to change the tone of our conversation before things got mushy. "Zen might was way off the bat in his approach but he's got a point from his perspective, don't you think? You also do know that you owe him an apology, right?"

His mouth flapped in a protest but I have none of it.

"Also, it's time to neuter your damn cat."

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

He placed his head against his steering feeling in dismay. Things were not going accordingly today. There were three miss calls on his work phone when he was occupied this afternoon and he knew what that usually entailed.

He could immediately feel a crick in his neck at the thought of whatever long winded task that awaited him. He turned to glance at his backseat--good thing there was at least two PhD Peppers left to help him keeping running on midnight oil for today.

And then there was also the issue of him of him popping by at the diner to see her today like the creepy stalker he felt he had become. All because she mentioned in the passing that she had lunch there everyday.

He could feel the heat rise to his cheeks. He truly hoped she hadn't suspected with all the fidgeting he was doing with the drawstrings of his hoodie.

A casual observer would think he's just lonely; returning back to a town he had long since cut ties all by himself while engaging in the ill-fated nostalgia this place held. But keeping to himself had been his permanent status-quo over the years and his solitude was a permanent fixture in his life.

So why did he want to see her again tomorrow, especially when there was very little reason to do so? He nearly even told her today that he was going to be too busy for the next few days to make it when they had never even promised to see each other.

Or maybe it was the girl in question itself who made him seek out her company.

She was everything that was like a breath of fresh air-- quick witted, razor sharp like the tip of a switchblade, but also kind-- she wore her heart on her sleeve; unabashed in showing love and fiercely protective of her tribe unlike he who kept himself guarded. She was also cute as a button and even her overalls couldn't distract from it, that when she first spoke to him, he was at a momentary loss of words--

And she _laughed_ at _his_ jokes!

Almost nobody ever does.

His quirkiness, not only hadn't made her rush out the back door, but made her laugh like she genuinely thought he was funny. Others (Vanderwood) thought he was a mentally deranged oddball who insensitively passed quips even at times of adversity or just completely ignored him (Vanderwood again).

He didn't know how long he had here and somewhere inside he knew he shouldn't be befriending her, especially when he'd be uprooted from this town at any given moment but --maybe, just maybe, there was nothing wrong with giving himself this fleeting moment of her companionship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done with 50 % of the next chapter which is about how certain members of the RFA finally meet Seven and the hilarity that ensued and will be posted before the week ends.


End file.
